In Our World
by stringsonthisguitar
Summary: "Mother says it is my duty—to marry and provide a future heir to a powerful kingdom. But is it wrong not to want that life? To wish for love? An honest and true love that all the tales of the lands speak so highly of? I can't even imagine what it would feel like to have a love such as that. Am I wrong to wish of such things?" No. Emma wanted to say. No, she was not wrong. SQ AU.
1. Part I

**AN: Just a quick little story that popped into my head. It's an AU fic that takes place in FTL. Just my own unique spin on things, I guess. Regardless, I hope you enjoy. This will be a 2-shot, so I hope to have the next chapter up shortly. Depending on the response to this story, I could make it into a full-length story (that's actually where I was going with it originally) so just let me know what you guys think. If not, there are plenty of other ideas swimming around in my head. :)**

**No beta so all mistakes are my own. I don't own the characters or certain plot points but the words are all my own and belong to me.**

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><p><span><strong>In Our World<strong>

The hour was late, if going by the high moon outside her window held any indication. She had been relieved from her watch nearly four candle marks ago. But sleep could not find her, despite her body's desperate need for it. Exhaustion clung to her form like a leech, slowing sucking away what energy remained. The past few days had been trying at best. Peace never seemed to find its home within the castle walls, but oh how she wished for it. Not for her own sake, you see, but for the sake of the one person deserving of it the most. She had seen the first of the marks just days after she began her watch nearly four summers ago, and fresh ones seemed to appear weekly. Whoever branded the poor young woman under her watch was skilled in their craft. Attentive enough to know when the body could take no more, but skillful enough to know how to cover his or her tracks. The physical marks themselves were barely visible to the naked and untrained eye, but she knew powerful magic when she saw it, and magic concealed the physical evidence. That and the princess's carefully selected wardrobe.

With sad eyes, she gazed to her armor which rested on her mannequin. Her fresh change of underclothes brought a clean and herbal scent to her otherwise damp and dark room—the erratic flicker of the candle was her only light save the pale rays of the moon that shone through. She twisted the twin leather strings that fell loose from her collar between her fingers as her mind raced. Occasionally, her fingers would brush against the silver necklace she had worn for most of her adult life. She had no memories of how she came to possess the necklace, but it was a part of her she kept hidden, carefully concealed under her layers of clothing. A part of her she longed to forget yet always would remember. Otherwise, it might have drawn questions; questions that she didn't want to relive. That was the thing with the past—it always haunted. Haunted and brought pain.

But oh how her life had changed; from orphan, to thief, to huntsman, to personal guard of the Queen's daughter. A peasant's dream. She came from nothing, still had nothing, save her armor and name, but at the moment she was somebody—a person with a honored title.

Oh how she needed sleep. Tomorrow morning would come all too early and the day would be long as always, especially with Queen Cora's unexpected departure to The White Kingdom. Preparations would start immediately: readying her horses and carriage, supplying both the Queen and her guards with rations, securing her numerous trunks filled to the brims with elaborate clothing only fit for a queen, sharpening the guards weapons … the list went on and on. All the while keeping watch and protecting the young princess. Yes, Emma's day would certainly be long.

Shame, because she had actually looked forward to the morning's light. Like every other day, the princess would take to the saddles, Emma along for ride, as they rode off to the fields in the east. The day would be spent riding, walking, and resting among the soft grasses as both women shared childish tales. It was one of only a few activities that the queen would allow her daughter to take part in.

Emma could already see the disappointment in the young woman's eyes. One of the other high ranking guards would take over in her stead, and the princess didn't trust many of them. Her activities would be cut short tomorrow, by her doing, as Emma occupied herself with departure duties. Oh the life of a high knight.

It was funny, indeed, that Emma found herself in such a life—enjoying and eagerly anticipating time with a royal watch—a princess no less. She'd always thought them spoiled, bratty, lazy, and quick-tempered. But Her Highness was anything but. Over the four summers Emma had spent as her guard—her protector, they had developed something of a close bond—a close friendship. Forbidden on most accounts. It was unbecoming of royalty to mingle with commoners, peasants, low-ranking guards, and even higher-ranking guards and knights. They were to be left along to their duties.

But Her Highness, Princess Regina was so, so different. The thought of the princess made Emma's sleepy eyes lighten in the dark room and a smile to form across her face.

But then there was a knock at her door, halting her thoughts. "Come in," she said.

It opened hesitantly, creaking, and a man appeared. "Lady Swan," he began, bowing his head in greeting. "I know you've retired for the evening, but the princess has asked for you specifically."

That got her attention fast. Her muddled mind suddenly cleared as she sat up and stood. "The Princess?" she asked bewildered, and he nodded in response. "Course, just give me a moment to dress," she said as she motioned for him to fully enter and close the door.

Their prior etiquette ceased as the heavy wooden door closed.

Emerald eyes jerked over to her armor as she stumbled to it, stuffing her undershirt into her breeches, never paying mind to the man now standing in front of her closed door. She jammed her feet into her worn leather boots, slipped on her Pale Chainmail and began to piece together her prized Alabaster Steel armor.

The man chuckled as he watched her struggle with her intricate breastplate, especially after cursing and finally securing her gauntlets.

"Goddamnit Graham! Stop being an ass and help me with this breastplate would ya?"

Shaking his head fondly, he stepped forward and began work. "I hate these bastards," he said. "But word is you're to be gettin' a squire soon, Swan. You won't be dressin' yourself anymore. Treated like the royalty we serve," he said with a hearty laugh as his rough and clumsy hands secured her straps with practiced ease.

"When did she get back to her chambers?" she asked, not invested in his talk but rather with the unusual request asked of her. Rarely did the princess ever lift her leave, but the few times she did, well, Emma came to dread her call. However, a part of her felt elated with the knowledge the princess chose her above all and was able to provide a sense of comfort and safety for her.

"Shortly after ya took your leave. One of the chambermaids brought her back while I was on watch."

Her hands frantically combed her long blonde hair back into a messy ponytail. "How was she?" she asked as her teeth remained clamped on a piece of string.

"What'da mean?" he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

She dismissed his questioning glare as she finished tying up her hair and moved to her next clothing item. "Nothing," she spoke as she pulled on her leather gloves and belted on her sword and dagger.

"Ya better be careful, Swan," Graham said with a hard gaze. "I see it in your eyes—your compassion for her. And if I see it, others are sure to as well. That's a dangerous game to play, for you both if that's the case."

She watched him, staring into his eyes, awaiting his next accusing words. They never came, but he seemed pleased as the emotions flitted across her face—all telling without her ever speaking a word.

"I don't know what you speak of," Emma said quickly as she reached for the handle of the door, but Graham blocked her exit. "I'm her personal guard, nothing more," she began in irritation, "but my loyalty lies with her and her alone, and if I suspect someone's hurting her, you best damn believe I'll make it my mission to stop it regardless of what may befall me. She's my priority."

He shook his head in anger. Anger for what she didn't fully know. He had always faulted those more privileged than him, especially those of nobility. Of course, who could necessarily blame him when a greedy and blood hungry king murdered his family and cursed him a werewolf as a lad for sick sport? Like Emma, he trusted very few and sought to viciously protect those in his circle.

"You are nothing to them!" he hissed in a low whisper. "Don't you see?! The way they look at us? We would fall on a sword for them, take an arrow for them, yet they look at us with such disgust and contempt! We are the dirt they tread upon, yet they still walk freely and without worry because of people like us. They'd think nothing of it to put your head on a pike, especially if anyone saw the affection in your eyes for the princess. I'd slay them all—"

"State your words carefully, Graham. If the wrong person were to hear, you'd face the sword or guillotine by dawn's light, that I promise you. And it would be _your_ head placed on a pike."

At her gentle yet cold words, his eyes cleared and he stood straight, taking a few steps from her.

"I meant no disrespect, M'lady," he stated, trying to fall back into their agreed formalities.

Emma smiled sadly and placed a reassuring hand on his armored arm. "You did, but these same people also have provided us a bed to lay our heads on, fresh meals to fill our bellies, fires to warm our cold bodies, and coin to spend on mead and women," she added with a smirk. "They gave us purpose again, _honorable_ purpose. We're not thieves anymore. We're guards to the Queen's castle, Knights to the Summerlands. We came from nothing. Remember that."

"Aye, M'lady."

"Has Her Highness ever treated you with anything other than respect and fairness? Is she guilty of the accusations you voiced?"

"Not her, M'lady. I just …" he started, trying to form his thoughts and words carefully. Graham had a huge heart, but that often was his undoing. "You're my friend, Emma. We've been through much together, and I know how these things end. I've seen the ugly side when people like us try to break tradition—break the rules set before us. Just don't want to see you hurt, 'tis all."

"I appreciate that, Graham, and you are my friend as well. But never include the princess in your ill words again. She's the very one who risked much to get you that silver band wrapped around your neck. Without her, your secret would have already been discovered, and you would have been the guard's joy hunt next moon. Remember _that_."

Shamefaced, he nodded.

"Good, let's go."

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><p>They walked the deserted and drafty corridors trekking up stairs from the lower servant levels to the upper levels where the nobles resided. The upper stories were much more elaborate with rich runners running the length of the halls and sealed windows. Prized artwork of the Royal family and their descendents adorned the stone walls. The woven runners dampened the noise from their armor, making their approach less noticeable. An effect much more appreciated considering the late hour. It was best not to make their activities known, questioning minds often led to unjust accusations and reprimands.<p>

With a torch in hand, Graham stopped first at a large double wooden door, the only set of doors down the grand hall, and knocked thrice.

There was a short pause and then an answer. "You may enter," came a voice from within. Emma smiled unconsciously at the familiar tone.

Graham pushed opened the door at the right and took one step in. "Your Highness," he began, taking a low, deep bow. "Lady Swan is here to see you," he announced, his eyes never once looking for her. Instead, deciding to find a safe spot on a far wall just in case the princess was not in her formal attire—anything less was indecent for any male guard's eyes.

"Thank you, Huntsman. You may take your leave for the night."

With another low bow, he took his leave graciously and closed the door.

With a short nod from Regina, Emma slid the lock into place. The resulting soft snick made them both visibly relax. That was their gate to the rest of the world, the click signaling their escape—abdication from their daily, assigned, and expected roles. Here in the safety of Princess Regina's private chambers—away from the scrutiny and judgment of critical eyes. Here, behind these walls, they could just be themselves. No princess and no knight. Just Regina and Emma. Two young spirits fighting for some joy and happiness in their life, if not for but just a few precious hours.

After a few moments of awkward standing and staring, Regina finally spoke, much to Emma's relief. "I'm sorry I called for you so late. You needn't to have redressed, though."

With a teasing grin, Emma responded, "With respect, Your Highness, a High Knight walking to her Princess's chamber in the dead of night, in her underclothes, no less, would not have boded well for many, I'm afraid."

Regina smiled and let out a short, nervous breath. "Of course. I see your meaning."

Emma watched with bated breath as the younger woman rose from her elegant and ornately designed high back chair and walked over to her grand hand-carved four poster bed. Like all royal possessions, the intricately carved and sumptuous furnishings demanded one's eyes—showcasing the lavish lifestyle only a fortunate few had the luxury of experiencing. But Emma couldn't help but wonder if Regina favored such opulence. The four years spent in her presence gave Emma the impression the young princess favored the simple things in life. So often she and Emma would sit beneath her prized apple trees and talk of lighthearted matters, or take leisurely rides on her beloved horses, the latter of which always ended among the grasses as the pair looked to the heavens, identifying crowing birds or chirping insects nestled within their forest abode. Even when Regina groomed her horses and mucked her own stalls, heaven forbid Queen Cora ever catch word of such actions, she did it willingly and with life to her step and a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Emma knew Regina might be the one exception for royalty. She would be a great and just Queen. A rare Queen with a kind and forgiving heart that her subjects would surly grow to love and respect. That is, if someone didn't break the beautiful woman before she could truly live, and by the markings constantly befitting her body, Emma feared it was only a matter of time.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Emma cleared her throat and addressed her princess. "Your Highness—" but a swift hand had her stopping instantly.

"Please," Regina whispered, "let us do away with the formalities. It is just us here. You are my only friend, and I would very much like to address you as such."

"Very well, Reg—" she started, but as Regina's hand descended back down to her side, Emma caught sight of a blotch of red at her wrist. "You're bleeding!" Emma rushed out in a raged whisper. She dashed forward without asking and carefully grasped Regina's blood-soaked hand. But when she pulled up the sleeve of her dress, no injury remained, just the crimson stain on the cloth.

Closing her eyes, willing back her enraged breaths, she summoned her courage to finally ask the princess an all too important question. "Who's doing this to you, Regina?" she asked softly, but after no response, only the down turn of brown eyes, she pressed on. "One word from you and I'll end this. They will never touch you again. Just tell me who they are."

"There's nothing you can do, Emma. Just leave it be because not even my father can put an end to it."

A sickening feeling roiled within the pit of her stomach. Of course … the Queen herself. It made perfect sense. Who else would dare cause a princess harm. _But her_ _own_ _mother_? The overbearing and tyrannical Queen ruled over her daughter much in the same way she controlled her subjects—with fear and pain. Her lips quivered with emotion. "Your mother does this to you?" she asked as fury burned bright within her. It broke her further to see such a loving and carefree woman reduced to a state of fear and self-loathing. To have her desires, wishes, and dreams stolen away so carelessly and thoughtlessly—her self-confidence and self-worth stepped on so viciously. Uncalled for and undeserving.

Had it been a man, Emma would have taken a blade to his neck, but not before marking him in all the ways Regina had been marked—beating him within an inch of his life and then ending it at her will. She hated killing—despised it. She was a protector of lives, not a taker, but when someone abused another just for sport or out of pure meanness … that was something she couldn't stand. Perhaps that view arose from her own experiences. She had bore witness to such people, encountered their wrath on many occasions. It was no way to live.

But because the bringer of Regina's pain was no one other than her own mother, Queen to the Summerlands, there was little Emma could do to stop the abuse and that sickened her.

Cora would break her. That Emma was certain of. Regina neared her breaking point and Cora was one push away from sending her to the dark depths of the human soul. It took much to reduce a human to that state, and only the Gods knew how long Regina had suffered her abuse.

But no more. Not if Emma had anything to do about it. She would save this beautiful woman before her, even if it was the last thing she did.

"You should change," Emma finally managed to say. Remembering how meticulous Regina was with her clothing and appearance, a trait Emma just imagined had been ingrained in her from the Queen. "Shall I call your servant?"

"No, that won't be necessary. If you'll help me, that is?" the princess asked, face blushing a light pink as she motioned to her excessively tight midsection—her corset.

Emma swallowed nervously. Gods, she did not need this right now. Not after everything that had transpired. Not when her emotions were already at the surface, threatening to expose her. To see the princess in her under things, well … that would certainly be a new occurrence, that was for sure. Not unwelcomed, but perhaps difference circumstances would have made it … _more_.

"Of course," she said quietly as she followed Regina over to her mirror and wardrobe. Holding her hand out, Regina grasped it and stepped onto her fitting platform.

With shaking and clumsy hands, Emma began to untie the laces, slipping them from their eyelets as Regina regarded her shyly through the mirror.

The corset gave inch-by-inch after each loosened strand, and soon, a sheer camisole was all that remained. Without her knowledge or permission, her fingers and hands took it upon themselves to brush over the smooth contours of her back. A soft gasp echoed her movements, but just as she jerked her hands away, she saw the faint outline of several reddened marks. Emma's jaw clinched painfully.

"I thought your mother healed you?" she asked through gritted teeth. Not caring that she just spoke her knowledge of the healing. A fact the princess had never voiced before.

Regina, who still held the corset to her front, shielding her breast from view, answered breathlessly. "Normally she does. But she didn't completely this last time."

"I should tend to these for you."

"No," she said quickly, "she would notice. Regardless, they don't hurt anymore. That's long since passed."

Again, without thought, Emma leaned forward and placed soft, barely there kisses against the very fine cloth covering each mark. The touches felt immensely intimate and both women found themselves getting lost in the connection. Never had they been this close before—this emotionally exposed before, but the comfort it brought each other was beyond words.

"I'm sorry, Regina," Emma whispered as she rested her forehead between Regina's shoulder blades, placing stray kisses there as she spoke. "You shouldn't have to suffer this."

Regina swallowed the dry lump in her throat and nodded softly. She felt strong hands caressing her back and sides. So much, she wanted to divest herself of the corset she currently held against herself, and lace her fingers with the one's belonging to her protector and dear friend. How it would have grounded her—made her feel even more safe.

Instead, with graceful ease, Regina removed what remained of her dress, Emma turning while she slipped off her camisole and put on her nightgown that fell mid-calf.

Emma heard soft footfalls retreating as the owner moved toward her opened balcony doors. Silently, Regina stood there, her back to the room, staring out into the night, yet never stepping foot out onto her terrace. Emma saw the sharp movements of her shoulders and the soft, yet sudden intakes of air. She was crying.

"'Gina," Emma called to her, her voice breaking, causing the rarely spoken nickname to be uttered.

"I'm to marry in a fortnight," she began brokenly. "To the King of The White Kingdom … a man who's old enough to be my father. Mother told me this past evening. Stupidly, I refused and this," she said, indicating to her previously stained arm, "was my punishment."

She paused for a moment as she turned her head back to look at Emma. The contact was brief, but the young knight saw the torment in the equally young princess's eyes. A look of anguish she longed to help rid her of. "I am nineteen and soon to be married to a King thrice my age. A marriage of obligation, not of love. I despise _her_, my life, the King to whom I now belong to—nothing more than another trophy he can boast and tote around for all to see. I'm a prize to be had and he is the blustering victor. Mother says it is my duty—to marry and provide a future heir to a powerful kingdom. Carry on our legacy. But is it wrong not to want that life? To not desire all the things I was taught to appreciate and yearn for? To wish for love? An honest and true love that all the tales of the lands speak so highly of? I can't even imagine what it would feel like to have a love such as that. I sit alone on this terrace at night and look to the heavens … pondering about how my life might have been different. Yearning for that life despite its impossible nature. I just wish so much—so desperately to be loved. Am I wrong to wish of such things?"

_No._ Emma wanted to say. _No, you are not wrong to desire love. Everyone should have love and should be able to love freely._ But she couldn't voice such words. Those words would ultimately be a lie. This world did not allow such luxuries of the heart—did not permit basic instincts and desires. No, this life was cruel and unforgiving, and she refused to be yet another person to tell the princess untruths.

"Speak your mind, Knight," Regina finally said after the silence became deafening. "You are but the only one who dares to speak truthfully to me. My own mother even lies and manipulates me for her own benefit … and my father stands idly by and allows it. So, am I foolish?"

Emma took a steadying breath as her right hand flew up to the back of her neck, rubbing it nervously. "Foolish? No. Unrealistic … I dare say, yes. What you wish for … Regina, it can never be," she said. Immediately, she wanted to revoke her words at the sight of Regina's face going from reserved hopefulness to complete despair. "Love, even for people like me, is not an option. In this world, one's name, legacy, and wealth, outweigh matters of the heart," she added, allowing Regina the knowledge that she wasn't alone in her struggles.

"You speak from the heart … from experience. Do you not?" the princess asked. Emma bowed her head and looked away. "Did you love someone?"

"I did. At least … I think I did," she said as her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought—confusion. "The longer time passes, the more it feels like … like it was just a vivid dream. One of those dreams full of life and color—like you wake up expecting it all to be real and then … _nothing_. Everything you imagined was just a silly dream. But it's always the same dream—same images. But … I left her. Not willingly, of course. I had no choice in the matter. Didn't even get to say goodbye," she spoke softly as her voice cracked. "What's worse is … she didn't even know how I felt. Not that it would have mattered. I was a homely orphan, not worth my weight in salt, and she was this … handsome granddaughter of a miller. But she was … she was kind to me."

"Her? You—you loved a woman?"

Emma laughed. "Yeah."

They were quiet for several seconds as curious brown eyes studied emerald. They held no judgment, only the innate curiosity to understand and learn more about the woman before her. "Will you tell me of her?"

Emma smiled and nodded. "She was kind and gentle. A free spirit with the most beautiful soul I'd ever seen, and when she loved, she loved with her entire being … almost to a fault, but … she was such a beautiful woman—inside and out. Like a goddess from the heavens, and when she smiled—Gods! When she smiled … she took my breath away. Pair that with her all-telling eyes and you could not breathe. You were just so entranced with her very presence. It wasn't always like that though," Emma said with a laugh disguised as a huff. "When I first met her, I believe she was disgusted with the sight of me. I mean … I couldn't necessarily blame her. We would meet on the streets or at the market and she would look at me with a sneer and piercing eyes. But I later saw she was like that with everyone. Almost like a cover because I could see something completely different in her eyes. They literally were like a window to her soul. I found she hurt—bore an incredible pain. Her mother abused her and her father died when she was young. But I … months went by and contempt changed to indifference, indifference changed to mutual respect, and respect eventually evolved into friendship and then love. Not a likely fairytale, but … I wouldn't have changed anything because that was just _her_. It made her who she was, and I loved every part of her."

Emma paused before she added softly, "You remind me so much of her. So much. I—I mean not the angry, mean part because that's certainly not you, Princess. Y—you are anything but … but I meant everything else about her. " She kept her eyes downturned, embarrassed with her outburst, and not daring to see Regina's reaction.

"In what ways?" she whispered, a small grin on her face. She obviously enjoyed an embarrassed and flustered Emma. Perhaps the two women were one in the same, just different versions of the other. The idea was ludicrous, but in a way made sense.

"In most every way imaginable," Emma spoke in complete earnest, but as soon as she realized the implications of what she said, she quickly tried to make amends. "Forgive me, Your Highness. That was too bold and far too inappropriate words for me to have spoken to you—"

"Emma," she whispered as she approached the fidgeting blonde. "Please never apologize for speaking such passionate words. I've … I've always longed for someone to speak so passionately about me, so dare not apologize or ever regret such words spoken for someone you love out of love."

"I never should have insinuated—"

"What?" Regina asked, her eyes full of, dare Emma think it, hope … longing. "What?" she repeated more gently.

"You just remind me so much of her, and I loved her. Gods did I love her. Twelve years. She's been gone twelve years and that woman I once loved is surely gone. The life I had with her is no more. I gave up that hope long ago, but the moment I walked through these halls to you … the first moment I spent with you, I knew I could love again."

"What are you saying?"

"I matters naught. Regardless of how I … just forget I spoke of such things."

"I will do no such thing! Emma, please!"

"I care for you, Regina. The feelings I have for you are not feelings someone like me should ever have for someone like you—someone of royal heritage," she amended quickly. "I'm a peasant by birth and to entertain such thoughts …"

"And what if I told you those same feelings are returned?"

What? No … no, no surely she misheard. But she knew she did not. Regina expressed far too much with her whole being and everything about her screamed that she spoke the truth. Regina, the Princess of the Summarlands, just admitted to returned feelings for an orphaned knight. Emma's heart felt elated yet ached at the same time. Why did her luck run so poorly? Had she found the possibility of love, yet a love that could never truly work in this cursed world? Yes, that would indeed be her luck.

"It wouldn't matter, Regina," Emma said sadly. "Not in the eyes of the kingdom—of your mother."

"You're a High Knight to a Princess. It is not that uncommon."

"I'm also a _woman_—of low birth no less! They would hang me for touching you!"

Just Emma being a knight was rare. Women were not often granted such "unbecoming" roles, roles left to men. And heavens forbid love be shared between two women or two men. It took place, and to a degree accepted in select kingdoms, and mostly among the common people, but it certainly was not favored for those of noble birth. Gods! She would be hanged … or a sword placed upon her neck! Surely the princess would be safe from such actions, but still …

Regina shook her head and reached out for the young woman, fingers brushing against her checks before hands fully cupped them.

"Emma … my Knight," she whispered, encouraging Emma's terrified gaze to met her own. "Please look at me."

A few seconds of struggle twisted upon the knight's face, but once tearful eyes greeted Regina's own, she smiled and continued. "You are far too harsh with yourself. You are so special and so very worthy. I do not care what word or honorific falls before or after your name. Those titles mean nothing to me. But you … you, Emma Swan, mean all the worlds to me. You've given light in my darkest of hours. You've allowed me to see hope. You are my savior … my white knight. And you did all of this by just being the loving, caring, kind, and selfless person that you are. You were the first to see _me … _not the Princess, the future Queen, the prospective suitor, just … _me_—Regina. You regarded me as the person I am … the young woman I desire to be with every ounce of my being. And I … and I've fallen in love with you. That is why I refused my mother's orders. That is why I refused to marry the King. Because I love another and the thought of it being any other way makes my heart ache in ways I never imagined."

"Regina … I do not wish to be the person to promise you things I know can never come to pass, regardless of how much I wish it wasn't true. I wish I was the one who could bring you happiness and joy. I wish I could be the one to give you everything—your desires, your wishes, your dreams. I wish I could be the one at the end of the day as we lie in our bed after love making to whisper words of love and adoration into your ears—upon your flesh. I wish I was the one to wake up next to you, you in my arms—protecting you even as we slept. I want to give you a home and a family. But I have nothing to offer you."

Regina closed the small distance between them, stroking pale cheeks softly, as she placed tender kisses against her forehead, across closed eyes, atop her nose, and against a strong and defined jaw. Then she stopped and encouraged striking emerald eyes to open. They breathed the same air, shared the same space, as Regina asked, "May I kiss you?"

No response was needed as Emma leaned into what space remained and kissed Regina. Ragged breaths, followed by soft gasps, echoed the other as lips moved tentatively together. The kiss was gentle and timid—an exploration of new sensations and emotions, meant to provide comfort, nothing more. But all the emotion flooded forth into the kiss carried with it a sense of intimacy. Intimacy that both craved furiously. Soft lips continued to brush the other as warm hands never ventured too far.

"You have everything, Emma. _Everything_."


	2. Part II

**AN: 'Kay, first things first, this was only supposed to be a two part story, but because this chapter had steadily grown in length, I decided to break it up. So, there will be a third and final installment to this series. Don't know when I'll have that done, but just know it's in the works. Also, in the first chapter, I made reference to the mystery woman being the 'daughter of a miller'. This was a typing error and should have been 'granddaughter of a miller'. Maybe that correction will make things clearer? Anyway, thanks for the reads, follows, favorites, and reviews, as always. Any and all feedback I receive is appreciated. It helps me grow. :) Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter. **

**No beta, so all mistakes are my own.**

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><p><em>"You have everything, Emma. Everything."<em>

Tears swelled in Emma's eyes at Regina's impassioned words. No one had ever spoken of her in such a way, never loved or cared for her. Yet here she sat, on the terrace of a grand castle, speaking and sharing words of love and ardor with Regina.

Emma felt the princess pull back, her own eyes closed and mouth parted as thumbs tenderly swiped away falling moisture. Then they were back, the softest of pressure coaxing Emma into a dreamlike state.

"Will you stay the night?" Regina whispered, leaning back to look into Emma's eyes. She saw hesitation. "Please? I do not wish to be alone."

With a thick swallow and deep inhale, Emma nodded. "Always." And before the knight's mind could comprehend anymore, strong legs sat astride hers, enough distance to keep their heated bodies at bay, yet close enough for Regina to reach forward and grasp the leather strap securing her breastplate.

"Wha—what are you doing?" Emma rushed out, eyes wide.

"Certainly you do not sleep in your armor?" she asked with a playful glint in her eyes, an amused smirk playing across her features.

"Right … I—I mean, no—uh,"

"Emma," Regina spoke, her voice soft and reassuring, calming in a way. "Relax. Nothing will happen without your say so, understood?" she asked. When she saw a return nod, she realized Emma's insecurities ran deep. Deeper than any flesh wound.

But for Emma, this was just another test. This was her at her most exposed, vulnerable. A likelihood for her to be rejected for the umpteenth time of her life. Never good enough. Never enough. Once her armor was gone, she was just Emma. The strong, bold, and abled knight full of fortitude was opened and bared for defeat. But as Regina gracefully fumbled with the straps at her side, she looked up, and most of her resolve and doubt washed away at the sight. Regina's brows were pinched and her lips had been taken in by her teeth as she concentrated on her task at hand. She stopped for a second as her gaze met Emma's and she smiled her breathtaking smile, all teeth and elation.

"Where is that confident Knight that draws her sword at the sound of danger?" she asked softly given the small space between them.

Emma released a nervous laugh as her eyes flitted about the open space, avoiding the closeness of Regina. "She left with the breastplate," Emma said as her gaze settled on the now removed piece of armor at her feet. Regina had never seen Emma without her full body armor. A time had never called for it, so the knowledge that Regina was about to see her bared—divested of her armor and exposed caused Emma's heart to flutter anxiously.

"Do you wish me to stop?" she asked as her hands stilled their movement, at the ready for immediate removal at one word.

"No."

And slowly, methodically, piece by piece of steel armor was removed exposing the thin, but muscular physique of the blonde soldier. The loose fabric of the sleeveless tunic and breeches concealed most of her curves and form, but Regina could still see the striking features beneath her clothing. Emma embodied strength, confidence, and femininity.

Regina's deft fingers traveled the distance from Emma's wrist to her shoulder, all the while marveling at her sheer strength. Muscles twitched and tensed at her touch which left gooseflesh in its wake.

"You are a strong woman, Emma Swan … so strong, and oh so beautiful."

But right at the start of her bicep, among the various pink and pale remnants of old healed wounds, laid the being markings of dark ink across her upper arm and shoulder.

Regina looked on in awe as she inspected the dark ink with her fingers, exploring the intricate lines and delicate detail work until it disappeared beneath her tunic in both the front and back.

"It's a dragon tattoo," Emma stated out loud as fingers continued to map out her flesh. "I don't remember getting it, but I was told it could represent many things: courage, strength … guardian," she continued and Regina smiled at the meaning. "It also can mean the start of a new life—new beginnings. Fitting enough for me, I guess."

"It's striking, Emma. Almost not of this world … I have never seen such. But I must say," she began with a sultry tone, unlike anything Emma had ever heard uttered from the princess's lips. "I'm rather curious to see the rest of it."

And Emma's heart hammered against her chest. Gods! If this banter continued between them, it would surely be the death of her. She was positive she had just discovered a different side of the normally timid and youthful woman. With this thought in mind, Emma surged forward and claimed willing lips.

Emma's fingers drew lines from Regina's temple, across her cheeks, down her jaw, and settled upon plump lips that parted involuntary at the light touch. Her thumb brushed over her bottom lip before drifting to the visible scar on her upper lip. She caressed it, silently wondering how the mark might have made its way to her body. She kept her thoughts to herself, but Regina saw everything she tried to hide.

Lightly grasping her wrist, she held it in place as she placed a kiss against a trembling thumb, fingers gaining the same attention until she wove the digits between her own.

Regina's eyes shimmered in the dancing light emitted from the burning torch mounted against the exterior wall. For a moment, Emma wondered when or if she had ever seen the princess so unguarded. Perhaps, not even at her most innocent moments—before her horses, running unbridled through the fields, or sitting beneath her apple trees. Here within these walls, locked away from prying eyes and snooping ears, Regina could finally be herself.

"Gods, you're beautiful," Emma declared; her voice full of ardor. "I still can't believe … I never thought … How I dreamed of this, Regina … and for it to come true—I must be dreaming." Her tone held a tremor and Regina's heart ached at the confession.

Emma's next declaration died on her tongue as Regina kissed her.

"You deserve happiness, Regina. You deserve _so_ much happiness—_everything_. You above all … and I would spend all my life to guarantee such right," Emma spoke gently as her eyes slid shut and she lifted her head enough to brush her lips against the smooth plane of the younger woman's neck. She heard and felt the sharp intake of air as a pair of hands found support around her shoulders. She took a deep breath before continuing. "You deserve so much, and I would give my all to ensure you have everything you deserve … to make you happy," and Emma sealed each avowal with an impassioned kiss.

"You do. You make me happy, so unbelievably happy," Regina began, but stopped short of voicing her fears. What if Emma changed her mind come morning? Decided it was too much of a risk. A risk she wasn't willing to take. Was Regina worth losing everything for? Was the thought of this ultimate commitment to much too fast? No, now was not the time. But Emma seemed to sense it anyway and decided to easy her racing mind as best as she could.

"Don't ponder on what-ifs, 'Gina. Tonight, it can be just us, here away from our worries and troubles. Loving each other the way we most desire. And come tomorrow… well, it is but a new day and we can go from there. But I want you to know … I will go wherever you go. If you wish to leave with me—leave this life—_your_ life, then we'll disappear into the morning light. But if you chose to remain here and see your duties through, then I will be here by your side—for as long as you want me there. But if we just get tonight … if I just get this one night with you, then I wish to show you that you are in fact loved. I want to show you love. That you are someone so unbelievably special, and you deserve to be loved as such."

"Oh Emma. I love you and I want … I want _you_," Regina whispered with so much love and adoration that Emma swore she felt her heart slam against her chest and her grip tightened against their now interlaced fingers.

Regina did her best to steady them, to steady their labored breaths and racing hearts, but she didn't wait too long before she moved closer, erasing the already minute distance between them, and brought their lips together.

This kiss was much different than the first they had shared earlier in the night. Where that kiss had been tentative and gentle, this kiss was certain and filled with passion. They both knew what they wanted and there was no going back. They were about to give into something both women had yearned for for so long: the love and affection of another.

The kiss deepened and Emma allowed her body to succumb to the feeling of delicate hands brushing and gliding along her cheeks. Their lips continued their dance as the princess's surprisingly strong fingers pressed into her cheek and encouraged their kisses further, each drawing deeper. Emma vaguely registered the soft pressure of movement and before she could open her eyes, Regina broke the kiss, lips not but a hair's breadth apart, and moved in to straddle her hips.

Emma drew Regina closer, encasing her in an intimate embrace. She traced her tongue over full lips, softly urging Regina to part them. Regina granted her entry with a quiet moan as four of her senses became overwhelmed. The taste, touch, smell, and feel of the woman whom she had pledged her love to felt intoxicating. Moments ticked by as the two women lost themselves in the languid kiss that was both slow and exhilarating. It left them with a deep seated longing—a feeling neither was willing to ignore any longer.

Emma pulled back first and looked into darkened chocolate eyes. They held a certain fierceness—unbridled desire, yet interestingly enough, spoke tenderness and love. It took her breath away.

"I want to make love to you this night," Emma whispered as she pulled Regina's hips closer. "But only if you're ready, Regina. I will not take from you. I'm not everyone else. You have a choice."

"No waiting … not for this. I wish to share this with you," Regina breathed against the heated flesh of Emma's cheek. Her hands rested on strong shoulders as they occasionally left to brush through the soft hairs at the base of Emma's head. She trembled as graceful fingers moved up and down her back, gooseflesh forming with each pass.

Gods, Emma almost lost all sense of control once those words had been uttered from her princess's mouth. Her eyes slammed shut as a violent shudder ripped down her spine, caressed her thighs, and quickly settled between her legs. Her eyes remained heavy, but she opened them and locked gazes with her soon-to-be lover.

What she saw there was breathtakingly beautiful. There, within those deep and dark brown eyes, emotions were read like a book. They were showcased proudly and without contempt. Emma saw love, respect, wonder, and maybe the slightest of fear. But that single emotion was hastily being pushed aside as Emma's hands tucked underneath her thighs, bracing herself for when she went to stand.

But any thought of moving was whooshed away in one breath when soft lips found the way to Emma's neck and fingers fumbled blindly with her blouse buttons.

"May I see you?"

"I have scars … too numerous to count. They're not pretty."

"You've seen my scars, have you not? You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Emma. They are a part of you, and you are a very beautiful woman."

"We should move inside then," Emma said as she regarded the woman sitting astride her hips with much fervor.

Even though their bodies had been concealed out on terrace by the moderately tall stone wall, Emma wished for the utmost privacy. A luxury not guaranteed outside the princess's bedchambers.

Regina could not help the bright smile that broke free. Emma's words meant more to her than any she had ever heard. They were honest and beautiful, and they made Regina's stomach flutter with excitement. "Yes," she spoke as she lowered her mouth to the smooth skin of Emma's neck.

Both women stood hip-to-hip, hand-in-hand, fingers interwoven, as they crossed the threshold together, symbolic of the giant leap they were about to embark on, and when they did, it would be together.

Regina walked ahead toward her poster bed and drew open the sheer linen hanging from the side. She turned around when she heard the balcony doors close and the small lock snap into place, effectively sealing them completely away together, if not for but a few hours. Thoughts of what obstacles and troubles awaited morning were long forgotten. Tonight would be their night. A night to see and realize all the possibilities, the what-ifs and the maybes, and to experience what life truly might be for them with nothing hanging over their heads.

Regina smiled nervously as Emma drew near. Why was she so nervous? While this might have been new territory for Regina, these feelings it invoked were anything but. But now a new feeling roiled deep in the pit of her stomach. A desire unlike any other. She was confident Emma had been with other people, even women perhaps, but she also believed in the depths of her heart, this was new for the esteemed knight as well.

The older knight approached her lover, gently cradling her face within her hands, and pressed small kisses against her brow, cheek, and nose, before connecting their lips.

Her hands traced down Emma's cheeks, neck, and came to rest right at her collarbone before moving down and clutching desperately at her hips. She felt Emma respond just as eagerly as one hand found purchase in her long, dark locks, and the other grazed her lower back.

"Have you ever …"

"No, mother forbade any and all interactions, and I was too afraid to cross her. She kept my time occupied, as well. But I regret nothing, because I now can experience all that with you … if you will have me, that is?" Of course, she left out the knowledge her mother so cruelly sent her way with. Telling her of all the ways a wife was to please her husband. What was expected—demanded of a man likely not to hold an ounce of love or respect for her in his hateful and decrepit heart. A marriage likely to result in long nights of abuse and silent pain. All of this spoken right before she sent her away not but a few hours ago. The images haunted her mind. While she might not have been as knowledgeable in certain … _activities_ as most others her age, she still heard common gossip from various maids and even cruder talk from a few of the male guards—all which made her blush in embarrassment. But shoving all that into the back of her mind—hopefully sealing it away forever—she was now in this moment with Emma. A woman she loved, trusted, respected, and adored with all her being. No harm or pain would come tonight, not ever, as long as Emma was with her. Tonight, a night she often feared would turn into a precious memory. A memory hopefully to be repeated and experienced over and over again. "Will you have me?"

"Oh Regina"—she whispered—"you never have to ask."

Emma's hands moved to the tied opening of her nightgown, fingers unknotting and loosening the ties as the garment revealed more and more paler flesh. She slipped deft fingers underneath the fabric, caressing forbidden skin for the first time. Meeting Regina's eyes for further approval, she started to guide the thin material over defined shoulders. Regina moaned softly as she felt nimble fingers splay out across the top of her chest.

No one had ever touched her like this. The feeling was indescribable. But words failed her further when soft lips moved from her neck to the swell of her breast.

She gasped and green eyes immediately searched hers as words were whispered across her heated flesh, asking for reassurances that what she was doing was acceptable and not too rushed.

A hasty nod quelled Emma's fears and soon lips continued their exploration, finally finding purchase against the sensitive tips of her breasts.

As Emma's mouth and teeth worked against sensitive and supple flesh, her hands caressed and squeezed Regina's waist before pulling back and slipping the nightgown over her head. Long dark locks spilled across her shoulders as she was left bare, naked as the day she was born, and she desperately wished to cover herself. Hands twitched at her side, awaiting Emma's verdict because judgment was all she knew. Her mother's cruel words rang out in her mind, reminding her of how imperfect and inadequate she was, constantly berating her for her appearance, either too voluptuous—never too thin, or how unsightly she was for a princess. Her mother strove for utmost perfection, and Regina had learned at a young age what resulted from failure to meet or exceed expectations. Now, at her age, she had mastered most of her lessons, but like Emma, her insecurities ran deep, as deep as her apple tree roots.

Fingers circling her navel brought the princess back to the intimate moment.

"Regina," Emma whispered longingly as she cupped the back of Regina's neck and brought their mouths together once again. "You are so beautiful."

With a gasp and tears swelling within her eyes, Regina asked, "Will you take me to bed?"

"If that is what you wish. I love you, Regina. I've fallen in love with you and I—and I would love to make you the happiest woman in this world if you'll allow me the honor," Emma spoke softly as she stroked her cheek.

Regina swallowed thickly and nodded only because she couldn't form words at the moment. Finally, she was able to speak. "I love you, too," Regina stuttered as Emma trailed her fingers across her cheeks, down her throat, and coming to rest right over her heart.

"I want you," Emma mumbled against the shell of Regina's ear; her hand tracing patterns across her chest; directly over her fiercely beating heart. "May I make love to you?" She asked softly. She was rewarded with a small shudder and the motion of her nodding before lips claimed her own.

"Please … Emma," Regina breathed against her lips.

Emma broke the kiss and looked at Regina's form with wonder and tenderness. Her hands trailed down Regina's body, finally coming to rest at the back of her thighs where her hands lifted the loose fabric to bunch around her waist. She gave an upward motion with her hand and soon hoisted Regina up onto her. Long legs wrapped around her waist as she carried Regina the short distance over to the bed and sat her down at the edge of the down mattress.

Soon, Regina was fighting what remained of Emma's clothes with zeal, deciding she had waited long enough to be with her beloved in the most intimate of ways. Worn and cracked leather string slid against agile fingers as inch by beautiful inch of pale skin was exposed. The tips of her fingers were occasionally met with the silky plane of Emma's chest and the valley between her breasts. Regina's kisses only faltered as she slipped the blouse free of Emma's body and peppered loving kisses against all the new flesh she saw. Occasionally, lips would pause as they brushed over raised skin. Fingers would soon follow as scar after scar was lovingly kissed and explored. Fingers splayed across her back as they too sought out the history that was Emma Swan—her knight, her guardian, her protector, and her beloved.

Her eager eyes settled on the ink that had remained obscured by her tunic. Indeed, it was a dragon, the full image remarkable in its full presence. It spanned across her bicep as its wings stretched onto her chest. By its positioning, Regina was sure her back looked much the same.

Then, Emma felt nimble fingers retreat to the front of her breeches where they grasped at her belt. She felt the fumbling and release as the leather strip was loosened and slipped off her waist and tossed absentmindedly to the side. With a slight nudge, her pants cascaded down her legs before resting with flutter on the floor. They never broke their kiss as Emma blindly stepped out and away from her clothes. She was left in nothing more than her modest undergarments.

Regina's breathing increased as Emma's lips brushed against her own. Her heart pounded within her chest and she was sure she'd faint from the sheer pleasure her body was experiencing.

"My dearest Regina …" Emma whispered shakily against her ear and Regina shuddered from the sound alone.

"Make love to me, Emma, please," Regina whispered.

Their contact was broken only momentarily as Emma pulled away. Regina opened her eyes and was greeted by the most beautiful sight. Her hand went straight to Emma's face as she traced her features, trying to commit it all to memory as the soft light illuminated the area around them in a soft glow. The image took her breath away. They had come so far in life. Despite their ages, they'd fought and suffered the ills of the world, encountered darkness that many with years and years ahead of them never dared to conjure in their minds, and tonight—tonight their love was proof of that.

"I love you," Emma spoke passionately as she claimed Regina's lips once more.

Not long after, all remnants of clothing were shed as both women lay bare to the other. Their forms were silhouetted in the golden ethereal light cased from the flickering flames of the numerous candles. Touches were felt as strong and determined arms wrapped around each other.

"Gods, you're fucking incredible, d'ya know that?" Emma asked breathlessly as Regina gasped from the common and improper word.

Regina felt strong and protective hands caress her thighs as she was carefully pulled onto Emma's lap. Their normal height difference was reversed as it was Regina who now looked down at her love. Her eyes were heavy with desire, but she closed them taut as slightly rough hands whispered across her upper legs.

Regina clutched desperately to her lover's back as Emma settled against the most intimate part of her. "Emma," she gasped and her eyes slammed shut. She was feeling too much already as her body trembled from the myriad of emotions spilling into her heart and soul. Never had she allowed someone so close. Never had she allowed her heart to be taken by another. Never had she been filled with so much love and tenderness. Her breath was stolen at each loving touch and as jade eyes glossed over—filled with unspent desire, bored into her, setting her body alight. Regina's gaze never left the sparkling depths of emerald as her arms moved to caress Emma's neck and allowed her closer to the woman she had idolized for so long. Their gaze was passionate, and it simply entranced Regina. With as much tenderness as she could bring forth, she reached up and brushed Emma's long golden hair away from her face before moving to cup a heated cheek. They were close, breathing the same air. Filling each other with new life after each breath.

"Emma," Regina breathed, barely above a whisper. She leaned down and brushed their lips together softly before completely enclosing Emma's lips within her own. It was brief as they moved together in tandem. Regina pulled back the slightest, still remaining within a breaths distance of Emma. Her hand that had remained at Emma's cheek moved shakily over to trace full lips with her thumb. Soft kisses were placed upon it as it retreated and the motion shot tremors through Regina's body. The beautifully strong woman beneath her, who looked to her with so much adoration, had completely divested Regina of her trepidations and insecurities. It was the most terrifyingly beautiful sensation she had and would ever encounter. Right now, as darkened brown eyes settled on darkened jade, there was no force within the world or the worlds beyond that could match this moment.

Regina released her grip long enough to comb back the long blonde locks that had once again fallen into her lover's face. She held them in place as she looked at her beloved. "I love you, Emma … so much," she uttered before lowering her head and connecting their lips.

Both women took their time. There was no need in rushing or fumbling through such a powerful moment because the time for that would come soon enough. For now, it was simply about exploring and discovering each other. Their bodies were unfamiliar lands, just waiting to be claimed and unearthed.

Regina inhaled sharply as she was overpowered with sensations. Emma encompassed her—surrounding every inch as she moved beneath her, within her, against her. But what completely shattered Regina was the way in which Emma showed her love with every kiss, caress, inspiration, expiration, and gaze in her eyes. Everything was right there, laid out beautifully in front of her, beckoning her closer, pulling her fully into everything Emma had to offer. This moment—this gorgeous and intense moment, and all it represented, was exactly where Regina was meant to be. Out of all her trials, out of all her trespasses, everything she suffered; she was finally being loved and giving all her love in return.

Soon, their movements became one as their souls united; their bodies rising higher and higher but never fully cresting. They moved rhythmically to the sound of a silent beat, the pulsing of their heartbeats, the rush of their breath, and the blood within their veins was the only metronome for them to follow.

Regina buried her hands within golden locks as her eyes slammed shut and breathing increased, along with her raging heartbeat. She leant forward, resting her head against Emma's.

But it wasn't enough. Nothing seemed like it would be. Regina wondered if anything would ever be enough. Making an effort, she opened her eyes, and suddenly wanted, more than anything, to see Emma in this extraordinarily personal moment. She wanted to peer into her heavy, lust filled eyes as they made this ultimate show of intimacy, trust, and love; when they both were at their strongest yet their most vulnerable. It was just them: two beings—two loves connecting as one.

"Emma?" she managed to ask as her voice broke from both exertion and passion. Her thumbs stroked the soft skin of the heated cheek, encouraging Emma's eyes to open. When her eyes found their mate, she whispered, "Will you … will you look at me?"

Emma stilled her movements as she looked into eyes that were brimming with warmth and devotion. She resumed her motions as fingers traced their way up Regina's body. Across her chest, over the smoothness of her neck, and made their home within the softness of her hair, weaving through luxurious dark locks. "Always," Emma breathed against her lips. "Forever and always." She closed the remaining distance and kissed Regina with all she was worth, allowing all the love she harbored in her soul to rush into the woman.

"I love you … please let go for me," she whispered against Regina's lips as their pace increased. Regina shuddered with a quiet gasp as she released; her lover not far behind her.

They clutched each other desperately as their bodies settled and minds cleared.

"Regina," Emma whispered as she brushed damp hair away from her love's face. "My dearest Regina," she softly spoke as she reached down and grasped Regina's left hand. She guided it to her face and kissed each finger and her palm. Her lips ghosted over the smooth skin before interlacing their fingers. They may have come from the darkest of places, but they would escape the darkness together and with the help and perseverance of each other.

Emma applied the smallest amount of pressure to her cheeks and brought their lips together for a gentle kiss. A kiss that sealed and signified every word they had just uttered.

"Thank you," Regina whispered against Emma's lips. It was a 'thank you' that held numerous meanings because it seemed like all her wishes, prayers, and desires had finally—_finally_ come true. It was a thank you to Emma, her savior, and to the gods—or other deities above who undoubtedly sent Emma her way.

They continued their lovemaking and intimate embraces until the night sky lightened, turning a dark blue. Throughout the night and wee morning hours, they would fall asleep underneath the thick blankets, naked and intertwined, as they relished in the new yet familiar contact. But now, they were connected in the most intimate of ways. Two souls that now beat as one.

"I have a small shack tucked away in the forest of The Autumnlands," Emma began softly, their hearts now quiet, long since calmed from their exertion. "A place neither Cora nor King Leopold have claims to. We'd be safe there. I have many friends there … wolf friends. Graham and I well, we had an allegiance with the wolves. We'd be safe—protected. I mean it certainly isn't much—a shack is describing it too kindly. But we could build on it … make it our own. There's a small village nearby, where I made all my trades—selling catches, leather, meats, and what vegetables I managed to grow. It would be a simple life … a hard yet simple life. We'd live off the land … struggle when it refused to provide for us, flourish when it did. Is that the life you wish to gain—a peasant's life with a disgraced knight? All for the sake of love?"

"Yes," Regina answered, honesty flowing freely from her eyes. "Because I see my future, and on its current path … I see nothing but misery, pain, and heartbreak. I see a woman starved for love—vengeful and beaten down by the man—her husband—who owns her and treats her more like an object than a woman. I see a woman desperate for a way out, eventually blinded by the hate consuming her heart. I see a woman who is no longer capable of love … who has all the riches and wealth kingdoms can provide, but want nothing of it. _That's_ my future, once mother leaves come morning. And Emma? I do not want that life. I want you."

This time, when Regina closed the small distance and kissed Emma, a ripple of white light shot from their bodies. In that instant, Emma felt a familiar thrum course through her, and with a lazy flourish of her hand, the fire which had but all sizzled out in the grand hearth, roared back to life with impressive vigor.

Then, she was overwhelmed with feelings. Feelings that the dreams which had haunted her nights were not dreams, but altered memories of a past she no longer lived. A past life long since gone and out of her reach. Or were they even visions of the past? Who's to say they weren't premonitions? Glimpses of what might come? All she knew was that the woman currently nestled against her chest and nestled in the depths of her heart and soul, was an integral, paramount part of her life. Almost as if they were predestined for each other. Two souls separated, incomplete until they reunited with their other half. Maybe everything that had happened had happened for a reason. Maybe Emma was there to save Regina from a horrid, dark, and lonely future. Perchance, Regina came into Emma's life to save her too—lead her from her destructive ways. Who knew? But Emma knew and understood that this was their chance. Their chance to start over—begin anew. A new life.

When the new sensations dwindled back to the old thrum that once inhabited her body, she locked gazes with Regina, a goofy and childlike smile on her face as she realized what this truly meant, in more than one way, for both women. She couldn't contain her excitement and the lightness that filled her chest.

"My magic! It's back!"

"Magic? You—you have magic?" she asked, fear lurking about in her eyes.

Emma lay still, as Regina's fearful words registered. _Foolish_, Emma berated herself. Foolish of her to not think of Regina's unpleasant experiences with magic. Emma would be apprehensive too if she had experienced such sadistic and violent treatment and abuse through magic. But Emma knew there was both dark and light magic. No doubt Cora used dark magic. But Emma—Emma had a natural gift in light magic. Good magic. She would just have to show that some magic can be used for good. This could be the answer to the daunting task that lay in front of them. This could be their way out.

Emma cupped a soothing hand to Regina's cheek and stroked the skin there, trying to show comfort and security in the simple gesture. She was in no danger.

"It was—it was gone for a long, long time but … do you know what this means?"

Regina shook her head, eyes wide.

"There's no truer love."

Regina repeated the words over and over again in her mind, her mouth moving along, forming the words silently as she contemplated their meaning. Then, in a moment of realization, she smiled that bright and brilliant smile she was so known for. "True love?" she asked, her breath heavy with elation.

"Yeah, true love! Wait! Here, let's see how much I remember," she said excitedly. Her brows pinched together and her eyes squinted in concentration as she did a quick flick of her wrist. There, on her palm, lay a wilted and sickly wild flower. Emma's face fell into an adorable pout as Regina giggled with amusement.

"Darling, I think that poor flower has seen better days."

Emma huffed and tossed the limp bud over her shoulder, a smile threatening to break through. "I never was the most studious student. Caught my Gran's trousers on fire once. She banned me from magic indefinitely, but she was too eager for goods … and free labor. So, she kept teaching me until I could finally pay my dues. I was a novice practitioner at best, but I eventually learned to magic myself into shops and homes—stealing what valuables I could carry back. I even got where I could magic things too me without ever stepping foot inside … less chance of getting caught that way. Gran was particularly pleased when taught the younger children how to bewitch brooms and the like. But boy did I get it when one of the boys decided to bewitch the fire stoker. Singed the seat of Gran's pants … she hobbled about for several days after that." She recalled the specific story in vivid detail, all the while wondering what pieces of it were true and what were only altered illusions. But it honestly didn't matter what was true or false about her past. She was living in the present, not the past, and her next decisions could greatly alter their future.

Regina's tender voice broke through her thoughts. "How old were you?"

"Nine … ten? Don't really remember. It's weird because I don't remember too much about my life here. Specific memories and vague recollections, but nothing definite, almost like I just appeared here, like one moment I was _here_ and no real, solid memory of my past. It doesn't make sense I know. Like this necklace. I've had it sense I can remember—adulthood, but I don't know I got it. The same with my tattoo. It's odd, to say the least. Anyway, I guess my magic is just a little unpredictable. Nineteen years dormant will do that too ya, I guess. Here, let's try once more." Emma inhaled and focused solely on her hand. Picturing exactly what she wanted. Magic was emotion, so she had always been told. For a split second, her eyes caught curious brown and she knew then magic could change everything for them. True love. Anything was possible with true love. Then, with a quick flourish of her hand, a beautiful edelweiss flower materialized in her palm.

Regina gasped as she looked at the unusual flower that signified dedication and courage, and in the blink of an eye, that same flower found its home tucked against her ear.

"Regina," she whispered, her tone serious. "Are you certain this is what you want? A life with me will not be easy. Everything you know will be no more. This is a life-altering decision and should only be made after serious consideration. I couldn't bear you to make this as a rash decision and then come to resent me. Because you would if you weren't ready—_truly_ ready. You would hate me for feeling I led you to this—away from your life as it is now. I can give you a week, a month, however long you wish—"

"No Emma. If you are ready then so am I. My mother departs early morn for The White Kingdom. Now is the time. It is now or never. We can saddle up our horses and depart before the sun rises. That would give us a few leagues distance between us and my mother by the time she discovers our absence. We can do this, Emma. If you're ready."

"We won't need horses, Regina."

"Wh—what do you mean?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With all of my heart."

"Then close your eyes and hold on tight."


End file.
